


The Curious Case of Sam Winchester

by LexieCarver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Scary, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: Pairing: Crowley x ReaderBeta: @raspberrymamaWord Count: 3,962 (Whoops)A/N: This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing  Hiatus Writing Challenge Week 8 with the Gif prompt embedded into the story of a piano and the quote prompt, “Where the fuck did that clown come from?” Ironically Sam centric while still a Crowley x Reader.  A bit of a rollercoaster, fluffy-ish, twist :D Angsty if you’re a Sam fan. Fluffy if you’re a Crowley girl. :D Scary af. I write horror kiddos.





	The Curious Case of Sam Winchester

(aesthetic made by me)

 

[Also posted on my Tumblr-](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/163213416300/the-curious-case-of-sam-winchester)

 

Sam walked into the motel room with his brother. It was a long and tiring hunt and they were more than a little sore. Sam plopped his bag down on the floor and fell face first onto the bed with a groan. Dean grumbled something that sounded like “goodnight” not even bothering to shower in favor of sleep.

 

Dean was out in seconds, snoring lightly beside his brother. Sam felt himself slowly slipping into dreamland but saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A large shadow shifted in the corner of their motel room, in the desk chair to be exact.

 

Sam’s alarmed cry woke Dean right up as they grabbed their guns and pointed them at the shape they still couldn’t make out. The desk chair slowly turned around, little by little, to reveal Crowley with a clown nose and a huge Cheshire cat like grin. He was petting Juliet, who was visible to both boys. Juliet’s red eyes glowed in the darkness around them, her tail wagging happily.

 

“Hello boys,” Crowley stated in a loud booming voice that sounded awkward in the confined space of the small motel room. His voice held a hint of sarcasm along with a frenetic energy like he would burst out laughing at any moment. It was very off putting to say the least.

 

“Crowley?” they both yelled in surprise.

 

“You two are a bit worse for wear, no? You should really smile more.” Just as Crowley said that, the light from a passing car lit the room in a eerie glow and beneath Crowley’s face, was the hint of a clown face as if it were a superimposed image and both faces were smiling at Sam. The second the car passed the motel, Crowley’s face held only his own.

 

“Where the fuck did that clown come from?” Sam muttered, staring at Crowley who stared back at him with the same gaze. It was as if they each were waiting for the other to act.

 

“What clown, Sam? It’s me,” Crowley said in a tone that read confusion, though his face held a smirk.

 

“Is it?” Sam inquired growing more and more frightened by the passing moment. Dean just stared slack jawed at Crowley wondering what the hell was going on.

 

“Well...mostly me. There’s something else inside, desperate to come out and play.” Crowley winked at Sam as he unzipped his meat suit revealing the clown from “It” underneath.

 

Sam screamed only to find himself in the bed with you, the woman of his dreams.

 

Ever since Crowley introduced you to the boys, Sam wanted you for himself. Clearly you finally left Crowley for him, otherwise why would you be in his bed? Your tight fitting and short sleep pajamas left nothing to the imagination. He was clearly a little out of it if he didn’t remember how you got into his bed. Who knew clown nightmares could be this jarring?

 

When you turned to look at Sam, the covers fell from your body giving him an even better view of your figure. Your eyes held concern and worry for Sam. You could see him looking at you, but not really seeing you. He looked rattled and frightened. He clearly needed you in this moment.

 

You kept your touch light and gentle as you wiped away the hair that was glued onto his sweaty face. Your tone was sweet and a bit hesitant so as not to spook him any further. “Hey baby, what’s wrong? You look so pale.”

 

Sam looked around the room still feeling shaky. He wasn’t in the motel room any longer, he was in the Bunker with you. You had turned on the lights and there were no monsters, no clowns, no dark shadows, no tiring hunt, just the two of you on a soft bed. Sam still felt disoriented and apprehensive. He looked over at you and sighed heavily. He felt calmer as he looked at your face. “Better now,” Sam said in a soft voice, not answering your earlier question.

 

“I’m glad,” you told him truthfully as you kissed his forehead.

 

“You always make me feel better,” Sam confessed.

 

“What happened, baby?” you asked not wanting to let it go. If he was this scared, you had to know what was causing it.

 

“Crowley was a clown.”

 

“Oh my god, really?” you inquired trying to keep a straight face. Crowley the clown was a hilarious image. But you knew how Sam felt about clowns and you didn’t want to laugh at his obviously traumatic dream.

 

“Yeah I know. Crazy right?” Sam said suddenly relieved to get back to normal.

 

“If that hunt really shook you, honey...” you said sympathetically but your tone changed into a more malevolent one as you continued, “Then you’re not going to like what happens next.”

 

Sam looked at you confused and apprehensive at what was going on. You smiled and it got bigger and bigger, your mouth slowly opening wider than any human’s ever could. An almost inhuman laugh came from your lips as you peeled your face off as if it were a mask and revealed a clown underneath, but this time it wasn’t the clown from “It”, it was you as a clown. Sam’s eyes widened. “Y/N this isn’t funny.”

 

“Who’s laughing, Sammy? I know I’m not. It’s okay, Sam. This is all for you. This is who I am, in all my clowny goodness. Love me for me Sam. I’ve been wearing a human disguise for too long. You loved the demon Ruby. Love the clown Y/N. I’ll show you how fun clowns can be. You can play with my nose, I can play with other things. Give me a try, Sam.”

 

Sam screamed on the bed bedside you, scaring you half to death. You spoke but didn’t roll over to him just yet. “Are you okay, Sam? Nightmare?”

 

“Clowns. Fucking clowns!” Sam ground out angrily, wanting to smash half the room.

 

His hands were all over his face, wiping the sweat off and blocking his vision of the room around him. You rolled over to him with a curious look in your eyes.

 

“I can make it better,” you promised. You looked up at him with innocent eyes and a soft smile. Your hands went to work on your pajama shirt but you paused. Sam was a nervous wreck.

 

“Sam, you’re terrified. Let me make it better. Okay?”

 

He simply nodded in return wondering what you had in mind. He didn’t take in the room or you, just needing to feel better and hoping you had the solution.

 

You pouted and slowly unbuttoned your shirt inch-by-inch, revealing perfect skin and the hint of the round perfect breasts he would have loved to see when balloons came out of your shirt. “Hello, Sammy. It’s Clown Day,” you said with a giggle.

 

Sam gasped.

 

“I thought you would be more receptive to Y/N. I can tell you’ve wanted her for so long, dying to touch her, feel her beneath you, why not just give in? Why bother fighting me? You’ll never wake up, Sam, and you’ll never defeat me. I’m the witch of your dreams, Sam. Better buckle up lover, because it’s gonna be a bumpy night.”

 

Sam woke up abruptly gasping for air. He threw the blankets off and bounded out of bed. The familiar white walls of the bunker came into view. You weren’t beside him, or rather the witch taking your form, wasn’t beside him. Sam needed this to be real. If not, then something was seriously wrong. He was living a horror movie, trapped in a dream he couldn’t wake up from.

 

Sam ran down the hallway to his brother’s room, pushing the door open just a little bit; not enough to wake him but enough to verify that Dean was in fact there. Dean was snoring away to his heart’s content. Sam eased up a little until he heard someone playing on a piano, a piano the bunker didn’t have. Sam groaned as he reached for his gun, running towards the sound.

 

Dean was sure to wake up now. Sam ran into the library, gun raised, when he found you next to Crowley in the middle of the bunker playing on the piano giggling. Sam wasn’t sure what was more jarring, seeing Crowley there in the bunker or seeing you both play on the piano together so obviously into each other. Your hands worked together seamlessly.

 

 

 

You beamed at Crowley and really got into the music. Crowley’s arm wound around your lower back as he held you close to him as you both played.

 

Sam put down his gun just as Dean ran in, gun in hand. Sam shook his head at his brother, as the boys listened to the two of you play Bach. Sam had a wistful look on his face as he watched you two together. Dean frowned at how touchy you and Crowley were being. You and Crowley were lost to the music in your own little world. Crowley whispered things in your ear that made you giggle and look over at him lovingly. You both only noticed the boys when they started clapping. Sam looked away, leaving the conversation to Dean. He needed to mentally prepare himself for future instances of you both acting like a couple.

 

“When did you learn how to play piano Y/N?” Dean questioned.

 

“Ever since she decided to go with me. You lot, hunters, are so low brow for my darling Y/N. You can take the girl out of cultural events but you can’t take the need for culture out of the girl. Much like how I can’t get you lot without the flannel.”

 

“Always long answers with you,” Dean quipped.

 

“Squirrel, do put down the weapon. I will not tolerate weapons of any kind being pointed at my beloved. What happens if you miss?”

 

“I won’t. And Y/N has been hunting with us for years. Sam and I both care -.”

 

You sighed heavily, slowly turning around on the piano bench seat to face the Winchesters. “Boys enough. Crowley’s cock is bigger. Now let’s stop the pissing contest, OK? We came here to help you out. We got wind that you’re going up against a witch that makes the wicked witch look like a puppy dog, so we figured you’d want all the help you could get and before you start to scoff, either one of you, Crowley came here with the spell, the very spell that can kill her. So thank you to Crowley, he’s saving your butts.”

 

“WE would have found that ourselves,” Dean added.

 

Crowley scoffed at him. “No Squirrel, you wouldn't. You don’t read Sumerian and you don’t have every volume of “Magical Beings” by James Conwright circa 1870, mainly volume 11. Now do you?”

 

Sam went to the library to check, making Crowley roll his eyes.

 

“No, we don’t,” he confessed.

 

“As I said boys. Not feeling the trust here. If you want this spell, we go together. Otherwise, you boys are on your own and we all know how that’ll turn out.”

 

“If this witch is as dangerous as you say, I think Y/N should stay back.”

 

“And what? Let the men handle it, Sam? I know you’re trying to protect me, I get it but I’m a big girl. Been hunting for a while now. We do this as a team. The old gang back again to hunt a witch. Nostalgia at it’s best, aye boys?”

 

Sam frowned as the pieces slowly came together, his head less groggy. “Wait, how did you know we were on a case. I just woke up?”

 

You shrugged. “I came over. I missed you guys, still have a spare key, you know. I found you asleep in your room with the computer open on your nightstand next to a glass of some disgusting smoothie. You were tossing and turning in your bed and yelling something about a clown. I was worried the witch got to you. She drives her victims mad you know. I called Crowley over and we searched for the spell.”

 

Sam nodded. Dean looked back. “You okay Sammy? That true?”

 

“Yeah just lack of sleep, I guess. I’m fine Dean. So I dreamed about a clown let’s not make a big deal out of it. Let’s just gank this witch and move on.”

 

In a very short time, maybe too short, you were all in front of an apartment building. You heard a piercing scream and saw a shadow fall over the fourth floor window. You all ran in, spilling out in different directions. You grabbed the spell and ran the whole way down the hallway to the victim’s bedroom, trying to find the witch as you began chanting. All of you looked over every square inch of that apartment but the witch was nowhere to be found. You did find the victim, sadly dead, trapped in her mind.

 

You were all starting to get worried. Where was the witch? She couldn’t have just disappeared. You said the spell from beginning to end with no breaks. You grabbed the hex bag that would then destroy her, when you saw Dean move behind you in the reflection of the glass cabinet doors.

 

You yelled for both men to help you. They turned immediately. Crowley snapped his fingers but he was a second too late. “Dean” threw you into the opposite wall. Sam dove for the bag but stopped when “Dean” turned to him, his face changed, his eyes almost black. Dean’s face started peeling until there was only a clown underneath, the clown from “American Horror Story.”

 

“Dean” spoke to his brother in a calm and confident tone, “It will happen just as it is happening now. The Winchesters will be taken down by a witch. You kill me now, so what? I’m coming. And I’m using your fears against you, Sammy boy. Sweet dreams.”

 

Crowley grabbed the hex bag and threw it at “Dean.” “ No one messes with Y/N! I wish I could torture you for even laying one grubbly, bloody finger on her, you sodding waste of space, but I’ll be happy to watch you die all the same.”

 

The clown shapeshifted into the witch and smiled at you, Sam and Crowley before dying in a puff of smoke. You gasped for air and opened your eyes seeing Crowley there in front of you. He checked you for any marks or cuts but you were fine, just a little dazed. You smiled fondly at him before you walked over to Sam and whispered the most important thing, “You’re still sleeping Sam. Wake up. You can’t defeat her if you’re still asleep. WAKE UP!”

 

Sam woke up with a loud gasp that turned into a scream. Dean nearly drove off the road.

 

“Man you were really out Sammy. You okay?” Dean asked worriedly.

 

Sam looked around and saw that he was in Baby with his brother who was looking at him concerned. Everything had all been a dream. He could feel the leather seats against his body, smell the fresh air from the open window, hear classic rock blaring from the radio. As creepy as his dreams were this felt real unlike the dreams. Dean kept looking over at him continuing to worry at Sam’s prolonged silence. Sam wiped his face with his hands sighing heavily.

 

“I’m okay Dean. I just uh. Clowns. I dreamt of clowns and Y/N.”

 

“I told you anchovies on pizza is a bad idea. They bring nightmares.”

 

“They felt real -.”

 

“Oh no, Sam, we’re not doing this. This is reality Sam. That was a dream. Y/N is with Crowley. Maybe if she knew -.”

 

“She loves him, Dean. I’m not gonna shake her world just to suit myself. I don’t like her with Crowley but he makes her happy.”

 

“How do you know you can’t as well?”

 

“Maybe I could Dean but look at our lives. Crowley is the King of Hell, the King of evil. I think he can keep her safe. I know that sounds like an oxymoron but he’s remained alive all this time. He’s a brilliant strategist, really. She’s the Queen, she has a sheltered life and everyone that gets near to us dies. She’s safer with him.”

 

“Sammy come on. You don’t really believe all that.”

 

“You got a folder there, right? What’s the case?”

 

“Man you are really out of it. We discussed the case before we left. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there. I’m not gonna stop pestering you about Y/N. But the case is about a witch.”

 

Dean didn’t miss the way Sam flinched.

 

“What does she look like?”

 

Dean handed the folder to Sam and to his surprise the witch they were hunting was the very witch he saw in his dreams. Was he having a prophetic dream? Were his dreams a warning because being trapped in a dream with clowns battling a powerful witch didn’t sound like a great hunt to him. He could lose this hunt. He could be trapped forever in his own mind. But he couldn’t possibly tell Dean that. He’d think he was nuts. Where would he start? _Hey remember when Azazel dropped blood on me? Yeah, well I think my abilities might have given me a prophetic dream involving clown shifting witches or witch shifting clowns._ Sounds bonkers, right? Yeah, so maybe not the complete truth.

 

“Uh, look Dean. I think we should pass this off to another hunter. Witches make me uneasy and I had horrible dreams the whole ride over. Really kind of shaken by them. Let’s do an easy hunt. Let’s maybe give this hunt to Tasha and Max Banes. It’s only fair to give it to another witch.”

 

“Are you sure man? I’m jonesing for a battle.”

 

“I know Dean, but I would feel better giving it to them.”

 

“Okay Sammy. We’ll find another hunt.”

 

“I’m sorry to make you drive all the way over here and -.”

 

“Dude, I can see how shook up you are. No idea how a dream can have this much of an effect on you, but hey, it’s okay. I may not get it but we’re family Sam, you don’t feel okay doing this, that’s fine by me. I’ll text them now. But trust me, you need coffee. The caffeine will shake whatever you saw out of your consciousness.”

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right, Dean.”

 

Dean pulled up to a small town coffee shop. There was quite a line and all the seats were filled.

 

“Must be good judging by the crowd.”

 

“This place boasts the best coffee and the best slice of pie for a 100 miles.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course they have pie.”

 

Dean shrugged and got out the car towards the coffee shop. They immediately started looking around. Dean for his latest conquest and Sam for the atmosphere. It felt warm and comforting there, books lined the wall and in the back there were comfy window seats and plush soft leather couches.

 

As they got to the front of the line, Sam stopped. He knew that laugh anywhere. You were here with Crowley. He watched as you tilted your head back, a hearty laugh leaving your lips. Crowley’s arms tightened around your waist bringing you closer to him as he whispered something in your ear. You laughed even harder and slowly turning in his arms to kiss him passionately. Your hand went to the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

 

Sam looked away focusing on the coffee menu studying as if he were memorizing it for a test. You both pulled away from the kiss leaving huge smiles on your faces. You breathed in Crowley’s scent before placing your head on his chest, content to feel his body against yours. His touch so comforting and peaceful; it was home to you. Crowley kissed the top of your head as the two of you waited for coffee.

 

Dean noticed Sam’s gaze and looked apologetic. “Hey dude, we can go somewhere else.”

 

“What about your pie?”

 

“I can have pie anytime Sammy.”

 

“It’s fine, Dean. Y/N is a hunter we’re bound to cross paths... weird that it should be here of all places, but I’m fine. Really.”

 

Dean looked over at his brother wanting to argue but Sam shook his head to leave it. They ordered drinks to go and of course some pie. Sam glided over to the waiting area and met Crowley’s eyes.

 

“Well if it isn’t the plaid wonder.”

 

You chuckled which brought a smile to Sam’s face. “Hey guys. We’re here on a case.”

 

“Us too,” Sam said apprehensively.

 

“A witch,” you and Sam said at the same time.

 

“Why are you two hunting a witch? Bit out of your league, no boys?”

 

“Crowley be nice,” you stated.

 

“Anything for you love.” Crowley reached down to press his lips on yours. Crowley kept his eyes open to glare at Sam, making it quite clear that you were his.

 

Dean glared at Crowley in response.

 

Sam coughed awkwardly. He licked his lips nervously before proceeding, “ Um... I don’t think you guys should go up against this either. We handing it off to Tasha and Max.”

 

“The witches who hunt?” you questioned.

 

“Curious that you’d be telling us to leave it. Why is that? I’ll have you know, the witch took something of mine, so I have a vested interest in tracking her down,” Crowley added.

 

Sam handed the folder to Crowley adding a quick note. “This witch traps people in dreams!”

 

Crowley looked at him apprehensively. He opened the folder and quickly glanced at the case file.

 

“I don’t want Y/N getting hurt. Tell me what the item is or tell them but please pick another case guys,” Sam pleaded.

 

“Very well,” Crowley acquiesced.

 

You looked confused but Crowley waved off your concern. “We’re looking out for you pet. Her victims are left in a rather horrible state and with one wrong move, she can take me out of the running. Werewolves, vampires and other monsters hold no candle to my strength but witches darling, we have to be careful. Can’t let anything happen to the mother of my child and the Queen of our Kingdom. I’m sure these Barnes hunters will bring me the item I need.”

 

Both boys exchanged a look. “Congratulations,” they said at the same time.

 

You just blushed. The server handed the four of you your respective orders. You all awkwardly said goodbye and that you would keep in touch. Sam would always love you but you clearly had a life with Crowley. He would love to see you more, even if it hurt a little to know you could never be his.

 

On their way out, Sam got bumped in the leg by a small child holding a clown toy. In the child’s other hand was a red balloon with the words, “Happy Birthday, Sammy.”

 

Sam nudged bumped Dean, “ You’re seeing this right?”

 

“Yeah super weird, buddy. So your dream was kinda of like this? I can see how agitated you are already.”

 

“Only scarier.”

 

“Let’s go find a salt-n-burn then for sure. You know this coffee’s pretty good. Sorry about Y/N and -.”

 

Quick to change the subject Sam asked, “You got the server’s number didn’t you?”

 

Dean nodded.

 

Sam smiled at his brother. “One of us should have some fun. Enjoy your night. I’ll look for a salt n-burn. Drive me over to the library?”

 

“Sure thing Sammy.”

 

Dean turned on the radio as “Tears From a Clown,” by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles played.

 

“Oh come on!” Sam groaned.


End file.
